


The boy's got a lot to learn

by bangyababy



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: 1940s, Coming In Pants, Coming Untouched, Daddy Kink, Dubious Consent, Kink Negotiation, M/M, PWP, Period Typical Attitudes, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-War, Smut, Spanking, Two angry boys fucking out their feelings, but only just, except with no actual fucking, only slightly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 07:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17199188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bangyababy/pseuds/bangyababy
Summary: ...and I’ve got a lot to teach.After Bucky breaks up yet another one of Steve’s fights, Steve reminds him that he isn’t his daddy. Bucky has had enough lip from Steve Rogers for one lifetime and decides to shut him up once and for all.  Really, Bucky ought to have done this a long time ago.





	The boy's got a lot to learn

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to write Bucky spanking Steve while Steve calls him daddy. Thanks to rm-knj for the beta. Title is a quote by the OG Hollywood baddie, my bitch, Barbara Stanwyck.

Steve slams the door behind him, only to have it come flying open not a second later.    
  
“What the fuck, Rogers!” Bucky shouts, swinging the door shut. “I’m fuckin’ talkin’ to you.”    
  
“Fuck off, Buck, you ain’t my daddy,” Steve spits back.   
  
“Might as well be. Might as well fuckin’ be the way I gotta drag your sorry ass outta every fight this side of the Atlantic.”   
  
“Well, who asked you anyway, huh? I can take care of myself.”   
  
“Spoken like a true jackass. When God made you he really didn’t hold back on the stupid!” At that, Steve turns around and shoves Bucky squarely in the chest, but it’s feeble and Bucky takes a mere pitiful half step back, but still, Bucky’s fucking livid. “Oh, you gonna try an’ fight  _ me _ now? Jesus, Steve just fuckin’ look at yourself!” Bucky gives him a push and Steve stumbles into the back of the couch.    
  
Steve rights himself and stalks back over to Bucky, his fists clenched at his side, and looks so angry Bucky thinks he might actually take a real swing at him.    
  
“You think I don’t know what I look like?” He throws his arms out, putting his skinny frame on display. “I know what I look like, Bucky!”    
  
“That ain’t what I’m saying and you know it!” Bucky snarls.    
  
“Oh yeah, of course, you—”   
  
“You almost got your ass handed to you not ten fuckin’ minutes ago,” Bucky interrupts, turning away and putting his hands on his hips. “I swear to God Steve, it’s like you go fuckin’ lookin’ for it. It’s like you want them to kill you.”   
  
There’s silence then and in the hardness of it, Bucky replays his own words in his head. The realization startles him and he turns back to Steve who is boring a hole into the floorboards.     
  
“Steve.”   
  
Steve glances up, his face schooled neutral, but Bucky can see the falsity in it. “Ain’t like that,” he says. It’s weak and too late.    
  
“What’s it like then?” Bucky demands.    
  
“What’s it matter, Buck, huh? I ain’t dead, and you still ain’t my daddy.”    
  
In the next breath, Bucky is crossing the room and grabbing Steve’s head with both his hands. Steve struggles in his grip, wriggling back until he’s pinned to the back of the couch. He scowls up at Bucky as Bucky forces his head up to look him in the eye. “You better tell me what the fuck it’s like, Steve, or I swear to God!”    
  
“You swear you’ll what!” Steve shouts, then reaches up and digs his fingernails into Bucky’s wrists so hard he breaks the skin.   
  
Bucky reels back and howls, “You sonuvabitch!” while Steve darts to the safety of the other side of the couch.    
  
But Bucky is angry now, angrier than Steve has ever seen him and he doesn’t count on Bucky jumping over the back couch like a goddamn apex predator. Steve doesn’t have enough time to get away before Bucky is grabbing him by the waist and jerking him back. Steve wrestles against his hold and they fall back onto the couch, a tangle of limbs and elbows to soft spots.    
  
“Lemme go, asshole!” Steve hollers as he fruitlessly kicks at the air.    
  
“No,” Bucky grits through his teeth. “I ain’t your daddy, you keep sayin’ I ain’t your daddy. Like hell Rogers, like goddamn  _ hell _ I ain’t.”    
  
“Stop it!” Steve tries to get up and off of Bucky, but Bucky digs his elbow in Steve’s side, and he doubles over in pain. 

Bucky can’t think straight anymore, all he can hear is Steve’s goddamn voice telling him he  _ ain’t his daddy _ and how  _ it ain’t like that _ and Bucky’s never been so worked up about anything in his miserable fucking life. The  _ audacity  _ of Steve. A wild idea takes hold of Bucky then and he reached between them to pull off the back of Steve’s suspenders. The clasp breaks free with a solid tug and then Bucky is yanking at Steve’s pants. They were loose to begin with and with all his struggling they slide down over his hips with relative ease.   
  
“What’re you doing!”    
  
“Something I shoulda done a long time ago,” Bucky mutters more to himself than Steve. “Puttin’ you over my knee. I warned you Steve, but you never fuckin’ listen do ya? Drive me fuckin’ crazy, I swear to Christ.” Bucky pulls Steve over his lap and pins him there with his forearm.    
  
“What’re you doing, Buck?” Steve tries again, soft and Bucky thinks, almost genuinely afraid. It gives Bucky pause.    
  
“Tell me what it’s like.”    
  
“Like hell!”    
  
Bucky gnashes his teeth and brings his hand down and slaps Steve solidly on the ass. His briefs mute the sting, but still Steve yelps and wriggles, but Bucky’s arm keeps him firmly in place. 

“Tell me again I ain’t your daddy, Steve. Tell me what it’s like, goddamnit.”   
  
Steve refuses to tell him what it’s like, but if the heat pooling in his abdomen is anything to go by, soon he won’t have to. He’s been worked up ever since the scuffle in the alley that Bucky had dragged him from. It’s only been getting worse since Bucky had lunged for him, grabbing him with ease. Even so, through all that Bucky hadn’t been able to tell.   
  
And now, Steve’s a verifiable fucking exhibition, and the stinging in his bottom makes his hips jerk, rubbing up against Bucky’s thigh.  
  
But Bucky is so caught up in what he thinks Steve wants, he can’t see what he actually does, even with the proof lying in his lap.  
  
“Steve,” he warns. Steve bites his lip and tries yet again to slide away. Bucky snarls and slaps him twice with alarming accuracy. Steve _keens_ and arches and it’s then that Bucky feels it.  
  
They’re both still, save for their panting breaths. Bucky blinks down at the back of Steve’s head and he knows just how Steve must look right now. He imagines his eyes squeezed shut, mouth open and lips puffy and wet, his cheeks pink, and absolutely breathless. Bucky is caught between wanting to turn Steve around so he can see his face and hearing that noise again.   
  
They’ve been quiet too long, now, unwilling to move in any clear direction. Wherever this heads, they can’t take it back, now. The gravity of the situation begins to weigh on them and Steve can’t stand the uncertainty.   
  
“Bucky!” It’s a curse and a plea and neither of them knows which one to listen to more. Almost without thinking, Bucky brings his hand up and spanks him again. He doesn’t stop to analyze why that was his first instinct, instead he zeros in on Steve’s reaction.  
  
Steve bites his fist to keep from making any noise, and that simply won’t do. Bucky needs to hear him, so he smacks him again; one, two, three times and by the fourth Steve is crying and scrabbling at the threadbare couch.   
  
Bucky lets his hand ghost over Steve’s ass. “So, this is what it’s like, that it?” Steve doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t have to. Bucky has a wet spot on his thigh that proves it. “Tell me I ain’t your daddy, Steve.”   
  
“You ain’t my daddy,” Steve hiccups.   
  
Bucky growls and yanks down on Steve’s briefs so hard he hears the fabric tear. Steve huffs through his tears but Bucky pays him no mind, not with Steve’s bare ass in front of him, spanked raw and a tantalizing shade of red. Bucky takes a few moments to admire it.   
  
Steve is starting to get antsy. Bucky hasn’t moved in so long that the stinging in his ass is starting to fade. He’s just about had enough when without warning, there’s a sharp pinch to his left cheek that has him yelping. He nearly gets himself up and off of Bucky’s lap and it’s then that he realizes Bucky is no longer holding him down and he has no idea when he stopped.   
  
But Bucky spanks him right over the pinch and Steve goes down willingly. “Tell me,” Bucky commands.   
  
Steve is silent, biting his lip so hard he’s sure to break the skin. He’s rigid in Bucky’s lap and Bucky frowns, thinking maybe he’s gone too far. He pulls away, leaning back into the couch so Steve can feel that he’s free to go.   
  
But Steve doesn’t get up. Instead, he lingers and shifting his hips ever so slightly, a wordless offering. But it’s not good enough for Bucky. No, he needs to _hear_ it, goddamnit.    
  
“Tell me,” He repeats. “I’m not gonna do a damn thing unless you tell me, Steve.”  
  
If Steve wasn’t already crying he would be now. He’s beyond frustrated with Bucky’s persistence and even more so his own unwillingness to just _say it._   
  
“Tell you what?” Steve asks into the couch, a clear grab for time while he works up the nerve to tell Bucky what he wants to hear, and more importantly, what he wants to say.   
  
Steve’s so close to breaking, Bucky can almost taste it. He places his hand on the small of Steve’s back. All he wants is it back on Steve’s ass, on his thighs, between his cheeks, bruising his hips while Bucky thrusts into him.  
  
“Tell me I ain’t your daddy,” Bucky murmurs.   
  
Steve squeezes his eyes shut and finally, _finally_ breathes, “Daddy.”   
  
Whatever control Bucky had been clinging onto is shattered and he begins to spank Steve in earnest. The admittance makes him giddy and hot all at once. “This is what you’re after, ain’t it?”  
  
“Please,” Steve whimpers.   
  
“You need somethin’ like this, you come to me. You hear me, Steve?”   
  
“Yes, Bucky,” Steve sobs.   
  
“What’s that?”   
  
“Yes, Daddy.”   
  
“There you go, baby.”   
  
Bucky builds up a rhythm, slapping Steve on the fleshiest part of his ass, his thighs, the crease of his cheeks, and Steve can’t form a coherent thought beyond “Please,” and “Daddy,” which he cries out through his tears. It spurs Bucky on and he keeps up a steady stream of filth, admonishment, and praise alike. He tells Steve how he had no right to go looking elsewhere for this, how he was made to be over Bucky’s lap, how well he takes it. Steve can’t understand any of this, his mind too focused on the sharp sting of pleasure in is ass radiating all the way down his toes.   
  
But then on a downward stroke, Bucky’s hand misses its target and instead directly hitting the seat of Steve’s ass, it grazes against the tender flesh between his legs. Steve tenses and Bucky moves to soothe him, but then he realizes that Steve is coming and that somehow pushes him over the edge, too. 

  
The apartment is quiet, except for the heaviness of them steadying their breathing.    
  
“Steve?” Bucky asks softly.    
  
Steve all but leaps from Bucky’s lap, pulling roughly at his briefs and pants as he goes.    
  
“Steve,” Bucky starts, moving to stand but Steve holds out his hands in front of him and Bucky sits back down.    
  
Steve shakes his head and whispers, “No.”   
  
“No?” Bucky repeats, doubt creeping up his spine. “Whaddya mean, no?”   
  
“I don’t wanna hear it, Buck.”   
  
Bucky doesn’t even try to hide the panic in his voice. “You don’t wanna hear what?”   
  
Steve shakes his head again and visibly swallows. When he speaks, his voice cracks halfway through. “How it was a mistake.”   
  
Bucky lets out a shaky breath and relaxes his shoulders. “Steve, sweetheart, it wasn’t a mistake.” Steve takes a step back at that, and Bucky finally goes over to him. “Why would you think that?”    
  
“It ain’t right, Buck,” Steve whispers, chin jutting out in defiance, and refusing to meet Bucky’s eye. “You ain’t like that.”   
  
“You sure about that?” Bucky gestures to the dark spot on the front of his pants. “You think you’re the only one who liked that?”   
  
Steve’s gaze flicks from Bucky’s crotch to his face. “Bucky…”   
  
Bucky changes tactics. “Why didn’t you tell me, Stevie?”    
  
Steve glares up at him then, a bit of his earlier anger resurfacing. “What was I s’posed to say, huh? Heya, Buck, I’m queer and I like it when guys rough me up; pass the salt, please.”    
  
Bucky glares right back, hands on his hips and a mulish twist to his lips. “You think I’d be mad at ya for bein’ queer?”   
  
“No, I don’t, and that’s the whole damn problem, Buck!”   
  
“What problem!”   
  
“I shouldn’t a put this on you.”   
  
“Put it on me?” Bucky grabs Steve by the arms. “Can’t you understand that I want this, too?”   
  
“Bucky, we can’t,” Steve pleads weakly. His chin is still stubbornly out, and he still won’t look at Bucky in the face,  but he’s angled towards him.    
  
“We ain’t harmin’ nobody, Steve.” He reaches up and tilts Steve chin so they’re looking each other in the eye. “Tell me you didn’t like it, Steve, tell me you don’t want this.” Steve’s quiet and Bucky leans in and stops just before their lips meet.    
  
“Steve.” The prompt traces over their lips.    
  
Steve’s gaze lingers on Bucky’s lips, before looking him in the eye. “I don’t want it,” Steve whispers.    
  
“Liar.” Bucky closes the distance and kisses him, his arms wrapping around Steve’s waist and pulling them flush together. Steve throws arms around Bucky’s neck, kissing him for all he’s worth. It’s hot and desperate and everything Steve has ever wanted.    
  
When they pull away they’re both panting. “We gotta talk about this, though,” Bucky says. “There has to be rules.”   
  
“Rules?” Steve parrots.    
  
“Yeah, rules. I don’t wanna hurt you Stevie, not for real.”    
  
Steve frowns. “I can handle it.”    
  
Bucky sighs through a smile because, really, he expected nothing less. “Didn’t say you couldn’t. Said there’s gotta be rules. First of which, is you gotta listen. Understand?” Bucky punctuates the statement with a light slap to Steve’s butt.    
  
Steve shivers at the sensation. He grins up at Bucky and leans in real close to husk, “Yes, Daddy.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come say hey on [tumblr](http://bangyababy.tumblr.com) if you're into that.


End file.
